"How I Learned to Love Sex Again After My Ex Cheated on Me"

I have always had a very high sex drive. I love sex and masturbation, and, as someone who writes about sex as a career, this side of me is something I’ve always embraced. I’ve also been fortunate enough to find partners who have had sex drives that, for the most part, were equal to my own.

But in the spring of 2015, things changed. My marriage of less than two years was on the rocks, and as I struggled to make sense of what was becoming of us, the first thing that began to dwindle was my sexual attraction to my partner. The man, of whom I could not get enough of just a few months earlier, no longer sexually intrigued me. I assumed it was phase; it’s hard to be sexually attracted to someone when you feel as though you’re both failing each other. But then the bottom fell out, as they say. And when I found out my partner had been cheating on me with a girl 27 years his junior, my lack of interest in sex abruptly turned into disgust.

And I wasn’t just disgusted by my partner—I was revolted by the very act of sex. So much so that a failed attempt at a one-night stand had me running to the bathroom to vomit—and masturbation left me in tears.

I legitimately feared I’d never enjoy sex again, let alone come to love it, as I had all of my adult life. For almost a full year, I felt stunted and betrayed by this new version of me. I was writing articles for women about the importance of embracing your sexuality, just as I always had in the past. But inside, I was struggling and I couldn’t figure out how to get back to the person I was before. My self-worth was gone, and the shock I felt that he, of all people, could have betrayed me so deeply, was all-consuming.

“In my experience as a therapist, there are a lot of ways that people respond when they find out about infidelity,” licensed professional counselor and sex therapist Sarah Watson tells us. “Having a physical reaction that had an impact on your sex drive isn't surprising. … Your body responded physically to what your emotional self was working on processing.”

When I spoke to clinical psychologist and sex therapist Marianne Brandon, Ph.D., in March, she told me, “Time usually heals, but if there is a ton of anger that a person can't get past, then time isn't enough.” I remember thinking that time wasn’t going to be enough. So I did what anyone would do in a similar situation: I immersed myself in therapy and forced myself to try to reconnect with the person I was before the betrayal. I sat with my feelings, as my therapist recommended.

Little by little, I began to dip my toes back into sexual waters. I started to masturbate more, and instead of spacing out and watching porn, which I had always used as a distraction in the past, I began to rely on my imagination instead. I thought of past lovers, things we had done together, and things that turned me on that I had wished we’d done.

I traveled to places that had no association with my cheating partner and decided to join Tinder as a way to turn myself back on to the idea of being sexual. I even met up with one of these guys and took him home, despite my initial fear of being sickened again once it came down to getting intimate. But, surprisingly, I was not—and that filled me with relief. Each time I saw him after that, more and more of that disgust dissipated. With this particular person, I had not just found someone with whom I could feel at ease but someone who made me feel sexy again. And, in doing so, he brought be back from where I had been, a place and time where sex and all aspects of it emotionally and mentally pained me.

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But while I feel as though I’m back to myself, sexually speaking, and could probably once again have sex for hours on end like I did in the good old days, I can’t help but wonder if this is fleeting, if maybe this isn’t going to last because of the emotional damage that was done by my cheating partner. Could I possibly have a relapse?

“Anything is possible,” says Watson, reiterating that therapy really is the way to go in order to keep myself, or anyone who has experienced something similar, in the healthiest state of mind (so as to avoid going back to that place where I was for almost a year).

All I know is that, for now, I’m loving sex again—really loving it. I feel sexual and alive, and I’ve found someone who has evoked in me a level of desire and arousal that I hadn’t felt in so long. While I know he plays a part in this evolution, I realize that it’s me who’s done most of the work and gotten myself to this point. And it feels really great to be back.